And If You Care, Don't Let Him Know
by WickedForGood13
Summary: A companion piece to 'Home Is Where the Heart Is' - Having been saved from a fiery death by Harry Potter during the Final Battle of Hogwarts, Draco Malfoy soon realizes that his and Harry's relationship is a double-edged sword as he discovers new feelings for the raven-haired hero. ON HIATUS


This is dedicated to HarmonyLover, who suggested that I write a companion piece to 'Home Is Where the Heart Is' from Draco's point of view. The story title comes from the song 'Both Sides Now' by Joni Mitchell.

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**And If You Care, Don't Let Him Know**

Draco stood apart from the other Death Eaters. Alone and separate. It appeared that his father's former standing and influence was of little use to him and his family when they were on the losing side. Money, power, prestige: what did any of it matter? The remaining Death Eaters were to be escorted to a Ministry holding facility where they would be questioned, tried, and ultimately found guilty. The Malfoy heir didn't hold out much hope for a fair trial. Even after saving Potter, he still saw himself as merely having traded one evil for another. What justice was there for a known traitor?

Throughout the school year, Draco had tried where he could to make life easier for the students. He hadn't been able to do much – his influence was limited since his failure to kill Dumbledore on top of the Astronomy Tower – but he had on occasion managed to divert the Carrows' attention and thereby save various wrong-doers from punishment at their hands, at least for the time being. His actions had earned him the gratitude and respect – if not the friendship – of Ginny, Neville, and the rest of Dumbledore's Army, who saw a different side to Draco than he had previously shown them and understood the risk he was taking to help them, the sacrifice he would be forced to make should he be caught.

As Draco stood watching the sun rise over Hogwarts, now a shadow of its former glory, he thought about the choices he had made over the years and pondered on what had become of his life. Ever since he was a child, for as long as he can remember, he had always looked up to his father and sought to emulate him. For Draco, the sun had risen and set with Lucius. Yet the man had never had time for the boy, merely seeing Draco as an heir to the family fortune and name, a sign that Narcissa had fulfilled her wifely duty to him. However, Draco was not to be deterred, merely trying all the harder to attract Lucius's attention and gain his approval. That attention, though, would be less than positive. When Draco had displeased Lucius by being a nuisance, he would be marched into his father's study and beaten with his father's dreaded black cane, the scars of which he still wore to that day.

There had been little love between Draco and Lucius as a result, not until this past year when they had nearly lost everything – including each other. Crisis had a way of bringing families together, and the Malfoys were no different. Still, Draco would never forget the pain and agony he had suffered at his father's hands, nor would he forgive. In a way, then, Lucius was to blame for Draco's behavior while at Hogwarts. Desperately wanting to please his father, Draco had treated others the way Lucius did, and thereby ruined any chance he may have had at true friendship founded in loyalty out of love rather than fear.

And then, Harry Potter – or _Saint_ Potter, as Draco had always called him – had risked his life and those of his friends to save him from the flames threatening to engulf the Room of Requirement. Harry had owed him nothing, and now Draco owed him everything. It was that – that debt that now lay between them – that had stilled Draco's feet where before he might have flown had his father beckoned him forward. Instead, he had found himself wanting to make a stand, to throw his lot in with his classmates and rebel. He had seen what life was like and would continue to be under the rule of Voldemort. It was hell. And he wouldn't wish that on his worst enemy. But then his mother had called to him, and Draco found that he couldn't refuse her.

"Alright, then – move along, move along." A Ministry employee was shoving at Draco's shoulder, encouraging him to join the others and be shepherded away.

_Out of sight, out of mind,_ Draco thought grimly. _What's going to happen to us? Will the door be locked and the key thrown away? Or will Potter sweep in at the last minute to save the day, like some knight in shining armor?_

On the outskirts of the conquering army, Draco could see a familiar red-head watching him. On impulse, Ginny ran forward and threw her arms around Draco's neck, clinging to him. "I'll speak for you at the trial," she whispered in his ear. "I'll tell them what you did for us, how you tried to make life easier. And I'll talk to Harry. As the Chosen One, his word will sway the jury's opinion."

"I wouldn't hold my breath on that count if I were you, Gin," he replied, giving a weak laugh at her optimism that even the Carrows had been unable to quench. "I'm glad I got to know you better this year, even if the circumstances were less than ideal."

"Me too," said Ginny, fighting back tears. Kissing his cheek once, she stood back and watched him be led away.

Turning his face forward, Draco refused to look back at what he was leaving behind. Whatever the outcome – whether he was given the Kiss, sentenced to life in Azkaban, or set free – the past year had changed him, irrevocably, and he was now determined to prove himself less of the boy he had been and more of a man.

While in transit to the Ministry, Draco once more isolated himself from the other prisoners. Left alone, his thoughts inevitably turned to the future while simultaneously considering the past. He and Harry's relationship had often been fraught with tension. Might his actions at Malfoy Manor – could it have only been the other day? – be enough for a détente? Draco was tired of fighting, most of all with Harry. Now all he wanted was peace. But who would believe him?

"Okay, everybody out."

Draco's thoughts were disrupted by the same employee from before announcing their arrival at the Ministry. They were all unceremoniously hauled out of the vehicle they had been transported in and forced to file one by one inside the imposing building, where they were then escorted to individual cells located below the courtrooms. Draco shivered involuntarily as he felt a chill seep into his skin, permeating his very bones.

Left to rot in his cell, Draco soon lost track of time, spending what he thought were hours pacing up and down, back and forth. He wondered what was happening to the other prisoners. Were they being questioned? When would it be his turn? What would happen to him when it was all over? An indeterminate amount of time later, the door to Draco's cell finally creaked open, indicating its previous lack of use. Draco turned to face the intruder, and was confronted with Kingsley himself.

"Minister," said Draco, inclining his head in a show of respect. He could see the surprise in Kingsley's eyes at his actions, and silently congratulated himself on throwing his opponent off his guard.

"Come with me, Malfoy," Kingsley directed him.

Following silently after the temporary Minister of Magic, Draco wondered where he was being led to. He didn't have long to wait as he was swiftly ushered into what was clearly an interrogation room that was bare apart from a single table with three chairs placed around it. A Healer sat in one and Kingsley took the seat next to him, which left Draco to sit across from the two men.

"Gentlemen, what do you want to know?" asked Draco, deciding to press his advantage while he could.

"The choice is yours whether you cooperate with us or not, Mister Malfoy," said the Healer. "Prove difficult, however, and I will be forced to use this on you." He held up a glass vial containing a clear liquid that to the unsuspecting eye resembled water. To Draco's eye, however, he recognized it as the truth-telling potion Veritaserum.

"And I say again: what do you want to know?" said Draco, indicating his willingness to comply with the interrogation.

"Why did you first join Voldemort?" asked Kingsley.

"My father wished it of me, and I couldn't refuse him," said Draco. "When he failed to retrieve the prophecy from the Department of Mysteries, I was required to repay his debt with my service."

"And why did you remain within his ranks when we have it on good authority that you could have defected and gone into hiding with the help of Albus Dumbledore?"

"Throughout my sixth year, Voldemort coerced me into completing my mission by threatening to kill my mother. On the Astronomy Tower, while I was tempted to accept Professor Dumbledore's offer, I didn't trust him to shield my mother and I from Voldemort's retribution. Deserting Death Eaters wound up dead too often for me to take a chance that my family would be the exception."

"What were your actions as a Death Eater?"

"Under Voldemort, it was either torture or be tortured," Draco revealed, recalling with crystal clarity the night that Potter had escaped and he had been charged with torturing the Death Eater responsible. "He had already threatened my family once before, and while I don't care much for my father anymore, I'd be damned before I let him touch my mother."

"And, as a student Death Eater, what were your actions over the past year where your classmates were concerned?"

"My influence was limited since my failure to kill Dumbledore," said Draco with regret, though not for failing to kill Dumbledore as Kingsley and the Healer surely thought. "I helped Ginny Weasley and Neville Longbottom when I could. I would let them know when and where the Carrows and Filch were patrolling so that they could sneak into the dungeons to release whoever was currently being punished. Being Head Boy, I sometimes managed to sneak into the dorms to leave food, since the Carrows thought they could starve us into submission. There wasn't much that I could do, but I did my best with the resources available."

"Why help traitors to your cause, though?"

"Voldemort's cause wasn't my cause!" Draco protested. "I'd seen what life would be like under his reign, and I wouldn't wish that on anyone."

"I see," was all Kingsley said before rising to his feet and escorting Draco back to his cell.

Alone again, Draco once more reverted to pacing the confines of his temporary abode as he wondered how soon he would be called to trial. Without a clock or even a wand with which to cast a Tempus charm, Draco was effectively left in the dark. Food came and went, but Draco took little notice, his appetite having seemingly vanished. By now, his hair hung in greasy tendrils down his neck and along the side of his face; there were bags under his eyes and his skin had taken on a grey tinge reminiscent of his sixth year when the stress of being tasked to kill Dumbledore had taken its toll on him. In a word, he was unrecognizable as the arrogant bully from Hogwarts.

Therefore, when he was eventually called to trial and shuffled into the courtroom bound and chained, he was met with gasps and a low murmuring as to his appearance. But Draco paid little attention to the sea of faces. He only had eyes for Ginny and, sitting next to her, Harry. He had come! But was he there to convict or defend?

"We call the trial of Draco Lucius Malfoy to order!" said Kingsley, banging his gavel and effectively silencing the crowd. "The accused is charged with the attempted murder of Albus Dumbledore and conspiring with Death Eaters. Is there anyone here who wishes to speak for the accused?"

Harry rose to his feet, inciting the excited murmurings of the crowd. Draco felt his stomach clench in anticipation of his words. What would the outcome be, though?

"I would like to speak in defense of the accused," said Harry, his voice carrying throughout the courtroom. "Draco Malfoy is no killer and does not deserve either the Kiss or a life sentence in Azkaban prison. While it is true that he was there on the Astronomy Tower the night Professor Albus Dumbledore died, he had lowered his wand by the time Severus Snape and the others appeared. He wouldn't have gone through with his mission, and I believe that given a few minutes longer, he would have accepted Dumbledore's offer for help and gone into hiding with his mother. Furthermore, when I was imprisoned at Malfoy Manor along with Ronald Weasley and Hermione Granger, Draco concealed my identity when questioned by his aunt Bellatrix. His lie by omission permitted me to escape and return to Hogwarts where I confronted Voldemort, thereby ending his reign of terror."

His final words were met with enthusiastic applause. Draco sat tensely, grateful that the chains ordinarily used on prisoners were dormant. Then again, he supposed that having his ankles and wrists shackled was restraint enough. He met Ginny's eyes and she nodded encouragingly at him. After Harry's speech, a number of witnesses were called to testify, surprisingly on Draco's behalf.

"Draco Malfoy was a great help to myself and Neville Longbottom in running the DA – that's Dumbledore's Army, a student-run defense organization – this past year," said Ginny. "He would tell us where patrols were, and at what time, which enabled us to rescue a number of students being kept in the dungeons. And although he participated in the punishing of students, he would, in reality, only pretend to do so. Draco would also make regular visits to the dorms at night and bring us food."

"The Carrows liked punishing us students," said Neville when he was called to the stand. "Detentions consisted of practicing the Cruciatus Curse on first-years. When I refused, I was put under the Curse myself, and Draco asked to be the one to curse me. I was both surprised and not, if that makes sense. Draco and I had never had the best of relationships. Therefore I was surprised when, in the few moments before he placed the curse on me, he whispered to me to pretend to be in terrible pain. Though his wand was aimed at me, I didn't feel a thing. He protected me that day, and I wasn't the only one he risked himself for."

"While I was a prisoner at Malfoy Manor, Draco protected me and brought me food," said Luna, her voice no longer sounding dream-like. "Although he could never stay for long without arousing suspicion, his visits gave me hope that help would eventually come, maybe even from his own hands."

"After reviewing the evidence presented," Kingsley began after everyone had been given a chance to speak, "I have no choice but to dismiss the charges against Draco Lucius Malfoy. From the testimony of such notable war heroes as Harry Potter and Ginny Weasley, he should be counted among their number. Mister Malfoy, you're free to go."

Following the bang of his gavel, a guard from the Ministry holding cells approached to release Draco from his chains. As the man stepped back, Ginny took his place and immediately threw her arms around Draco, squeezing tightly. "I knew you'd get off," she whispered. Draco, still slightly in shock, could only numbly return her embrace, meeting Harry's eyes from over her shoulder and giving him a curt nod in recognition of what his words had done to secure him his future.

"Draco, mate, congratulations!" Neville exclaimed as he joined the impromptu celebration, clapping Draco on the shoulder. Nodding in reply, Draco remained mute. Just as his appetite seemed to have vanished, so too did his voice seem to have left him.

"What are you going to do now?" asked Luna, her query forcing him to speak.

"I don't know," he whispered, voice hoarse from lack of use in the preceding weeks.

"Well, first, I think you should get a haircut and a shave," Ginny proposed. "No offense, but you look like hell. And you need to get some food in you, get some meat back on those bones."

"Whatever you say, Gin," said Draco, shrugging noncommittally. He found himself thinking, inexplicably, of his father and the punishments he used to dole out. He thought he'd give anything to feel the sting of his father's cane on his backside once more, if only the pain could pay for the sins he had committed and wipe the slate clean.

"Come on," said Ginny, tugging on his arm and pulling Draco out of the courtroom. She paused briefly to peck Harry on the lips before continuing on her way, accompanied by Neville and Luna. Draco followed without comment, not caring whether he was led to the gallows or a proper bed. As it turned out, Ginny took him first to a barber – thankfully in the Muggle world, where no one would recognize him – and then to a restaurant where she and the others plied him with food, determined to help him regain the weight he had lost.

"So, doesn't your boyfriend mind you breaking bread with a known criminal?" asked Draco between bites of food.

"You're not a criminal, Draco," Ginny protested his use of the word. "And no, Harry doesn't mind – much. I told him what you did for me, for all the students this past year. And he understands."

"You have to look to the future now, Draco," said Neville before Draco could say anything against Harry, had he been planning to. "What are you going to do?"

Draco sat chewing slowly as he considered his options. He knew what he _wanted_ to do; he just wasn't sure whether or not he'd be allowed, given his past record. "I'd like to become an Auror," he announced at last. "Partly because I'd like to redeem myself and clear my family's name, erase the misdeeds of my father; I don't want society to forever associate 'Malfoy' with 'Lucius.' And partly just because I want to. So many choices have been taken from me over the years. I'd like to do something for _me_ for once."

"I think that's a fine goal, Draco," said Luna, a dreamy smile on her face.

So Draco set out to become an Auror. After bidding farewell to Ginny, Neville, and Luna, Draco once more entered the Wizarding world, albeit hesitantly, being unsure of his reception despite the support he had received at his trial from known war heroes. He didn't know whether his actions of the past year would be enough cause for people to ignore the fact that he had been up on the Astronomy Tower the night of Dumbledore's death, holding the beloved Headmaster and revered wizard at wand point.

"You want to become a _what_?"

"An Auror, Minister," Draco repeated himself to Kingsley, who was staring at him in slack-jawed amazement.

"I see." Kingsley considered Draco's earnest face before rising to his feet. "I'll do what I can for you, Mister Malfoy. I imagine joining the Auror program might set a few tongues wagging, but considering that the charges against you have been dismissed, I can't see there being any problems."

"Thank you, Minister, sir," said Draco, rising to his feet as well and holding out his hand to shake Kingsley's. "I certainly appreciate it."

Kingsley held his hand a moment longer than was strictly necessary. "I believe you truly want to turn your life around, Draco," he said. "I hope my faith in you is not mistaken."

"It isn't, sir," Draco replied, equally as serious. "I'll prove myself worthy of your faith and trust, both."

"Then goodbye for now, Mister Malfoy," said Kingsley, waving him out of his office.

With the Minister's backing, Draco was soon enrolled in an updated Auror training program, along with several of his former classmates, including Harry Potter. Neither of the former rivals had seen each other since Draco's trial. On the one hand, Draco was indebted to the raven-haired hero, not just for speaking at his trial but for saving him from a fiery death in the Room of Requirement. Yet Draco was sure that Harry wanted nothing to do with him, not after the way he'd treated him and his friends while they were in school together. So Draco isolated himself as he had immediately following the Final Battle, going to class and completing assignments in silence, interacting with others only when absolutely necessary.

He'd rented a miserable little flat in London, not thinking himself worthy of anything more than the bare necessities. While he may have come to terms with his actions, he had yet to forgive himself. As such, he accepted the hexes and jinxes cast his way by underlings and the like, believing it to be his due, the only penance he could offer for the horrors he had seen committed and done himself during the war. Sometimes, though, he was threatened with actual physical violence rather than just petty curses.

Currently, he was being pinned to the wall of one of the Ministry's training rooms by a young trainee named Russell. "How'd you even get into this program, anyway, huh? You're scum, Malfoy, a Death Eater traitor, just like your father." He suddenly released Draco, who fell to the floor clutching at his throat. However, Russell wasn't through with him yet. He began to kick at Draco's exposed abdomen, grunting with the effort that each blow required. Draco lay limp on the floor, unresisting, only to be saved by an unlikely hero.

"Russell!"

In the doorway stood Harry Potter, cutting an imposing figure with his legs planted and his wand extended in front of him. Russell stopped kicking Draco and moved away from him. "He's all yours, Potter," he said, motioning towards the inert body behind him. Draco lay absolutely still, wondering what exactly Harry was there for and what he would now do.

"Draco," called Harry softly.

With great effort, Draco lifted his head and met a pair of emerald-green orbs filled with concern – for _him_, Draco was shocked to realize. Laboring to get up, Draco made his way over to Harry, as he instinctively realized the war hero wanted. As soon as he was within range, Harry grabbed for his wrist and thrust the blond protectively behind him. Raking his eyes up and down Draco's emaciated form – he hadn't been feeding himself as well as he could, once more feeling that it was his due to go without as others had before him – Harry turned his attention back to Russell, who was watching the pair of them intently, puzzled by Harry's actions towards a known enemy.

"How dare you?" Harry hissed, eyes blazing with barely concealed fury.

"How dare I _what_?" Russell countered. "I was merely putting him in his place, which is nothing less than he deserves, the Death Eater scum."

"And I say again: how dare you? He's been through more than you or I can imagine. He's been tasked with the impossible and had the fate of his family rest on his shoulders. He's put himself at risk with nothing to gain and everything to lose. I say again – _how_. _dare_. _you_?"

"Alright, alright," Russell exclaimed, throwing his hands up in the air in surrender. "Merlin's beard, you'd think the two of you were bosom buddies instead of bitter enemies."

"Make no mistake, Russell – I _will_ report this," Harry warned him. "Now get out of my sight." Russell left without another word, leaving Harry and Draco alone together. "Has this happened before?" Harry questioned Draco.

"Maybe. I forget." Draco shrugged noncommittally. He wasn't about to admit to Harry that being hassled like this was a daily occurrence for him. No need for Harry to blow his top.

"Why haven't you said anything before? I would have been glad to help!"

"Would you? I was under the impression that when you spoke for me at the trial it was at Ginny's behest and not for my own sake," said Draco.

"Maybe so, but if I'd known this was going on, I would have stepped in and put a stop to it. I can see that you've changed, Draco," said Harry, placing a hand on his shoulder. "Everyone can see that you're different from before, and that's why we're willing to give you a chance. But you have to give yourself one, too. Now, be honest with me. Have you not reported this because it's truly never happened before? Or do you think that you deserve such treatment, because you were on the losing side and have now seen the error of your ways?"

"What do you think, Potter?" Draco sneered, retreating behind the mask from before the war in an effort to hide his tears. "How would you feel if you were me? Get off your high horse and put yourself in my shoes for a moment. I truly thought I was in the right. I'd been raised on the ideals of blood-purity, to think that I was better than everyone who wasn't a pureblood. And then I went to Hogwarts, where I was constantly bested by Granger, a Muggleborn. And it was then that I was faced with the reality that my father was wrong. My upbringing had been all wrong. Blood purity had nothing to do with success. But I was trapped in my circumstances, just as you were. I know how it feels to have one's choices taken from you and to be unable to live your life for yourself. Becoming a Death Eater wasn't my idea; it was Lucius's. I was selected to make up for my father's mistake when he failed to retrieve the prophecy from the Department of Mysteries and got himself arrested instead. I had _no choice_. Under Voldemort, it was kill or be killed; torture or be tortured."

Harry was stunned by the vehemence with which Draco vilified the ideals that had been thrust upon him since birth. He'd had no idea that the blond felt that strongly or had experienced such a complete turnaround in his outlook on life. "I'm sorry, Draco," he whispered. "I didn't know you felt that way." Turning him around, Harry embraced his former rival wholeheartedly; although tense at first, Draco soon relaxed and clung to Harry tightly.

"Thank you for listening, and for saving my life, and for speaking at mine and my mother's trial. I appreciate everything you've done for me and my family, undeserving as we are."

"You saved me first," Harry protested. "The war would have ended before even starting had you positively identified me at the Manor. On the contrary, I am greatly indebted to you."

Draco shook his head. "In the Room of Requirement, you had no reason to come back for me, but you did. You should have thought of yourself and Granger and Weasley first. Yet you all risked your lives for mine. To what end? For what purpose? No, Harry, it is _I_ who am indebted to _you_."

"I guess we'll have to agree to disagree on this one," said Harry with a laugh. "Draco, we're square. I saved you and you saved me. If you want to talk of debt, then consider us even."

"As you wish," said Draco, nodding once in concession.

"Come on, I'll walk you to the Floo," Harry offered. "I don't trust the others to let you alone. And if Russell's after you, then there might be others."

"I'll defer to your judgment in this case," said Draco, grateful that Harry would only be going as far as the Floo. He didn't want his personal savior to see the condition he had been reduced to, despite those circumstances being of his own choosing. The two walked down the hallway in silence, yet it was comfortable where in years before it would have been fraught with tension. They came to a halt in front of an available Floo station. Draco turned to Harry, unsure what was expected of him. Were they friends now? He _had_ bared his soul to the other, after all. But was it enough? "I'll see you tomorrow, then," said Draco, holding out his hand to shake Harry's as he had with Kingsley some months before when he first applied to the Auror program.

"Yeah, I'll see you," Harry replied. "Say, Draco – Aurors often have partners, and I was wondering if you'd want to be mine."

"Do _you_ want me to be your partner?" Draco fired back.

"Yes, I think I do," said Harry, nodding decisively. "So what do you say?"

"What _can_ I say, Harry? I'm flattered that you'd even consider asking me, and I'd be honored to accept."

Draco found himself choking back tears at Harry's generous offer. Such an endorsement by a revered war hero to a known war criminal... it was unheard of. Yet Draco found that he couldn't refuse, despite whatever the consequences might be for either himself or Harry. He _wanted_ to work with his former rival, if only to pay back the life debt he owed him, whatever Harry might say to the contrary. And yet, it wasn't strictly for that purpose alone. Draco found that he wanted to prove himself to Harry – and to everyone else who still doubted his intentions. He wanted to be known for something more than just being the Death Eater who couldn't kill Dumbledore. Mostly, he just wanted to be worthy of Harry's patronage.

"Goodnight, Draco," said Harry, briefly pulling the other man into his arms and then releasing him.

"Goodnight," said Draco, backing into the fireplace and calling out, "The Leaky Caldron!"

As he disappeared in a blur of green flames, Harry's eyes were the last thing he saw before his vision went black and he was shooting through the fireplaces of London on the way to his destination. He tumbled out onto the floor of the Leaky Caldron and after picking himself up and dusting his clothes off, greeted Tom the barman before entering Muggle London to join the throng of pedestrians. He weaved expertly through the crowd and eventually broke free to take a side street that led to his flat. Climbing the stairs, he let himself in and walked the few steps to his sofa where he collapsed and promptly fell into a fitful doze.


End file.
